Until you die
by WayneMoses
Summary: Sherlock is in a medicated coma after the bomb goes off, Molly stops in to see him. Tears ensue. Set after The Great Game. Rated M in case I make this a full story.
1. Chapter 1

**Not sure if it will be a one shot or not. I've had it sitting around for a while! Please enjoy!**

I walked into his room shaking and more afraid than I had ever been in my life. He was in the hospital bed motionless. Sweat beaded over his forehead spilling into his dark hair, the curls that normally were near perfection laid flat and lifeless. His skin was pale, dark rings encased his closed eyes making them look sunken and lost. Oxygen tubes ran across his nose while a feeding tube rested on his soft, chapped lips.

The light green sheets were pulled up chest high and tucked around his thin body, one arm over the covers held an iv that was taped down to a board so that even the worst movement would keep it secure. The small hospital gown clung to his waif like body that harshly showed every meal missed.

I was only a few feet away, no one else was here but I felt as if my body wouldn't move an inch. I wanted to run, to not see him this way but I had to, I just had to. I took another step closer, glancing down I could see the catheter hanging under his bed. I felt a wave of sickness in my body and closed my eyes.

Sherlock.

To me this one name held power, sophistication, brains, cockiness, pride and many more. Seeing someone I respected and held so highly in this current condition made my body go numb. He is my perfection, I am in love with him.

I know to him I am just Molly Hooper. To him I am talentless, I am invisible unless he needs something, mostly just dead bodies or time in the morgue. I know he uses me. If that's the only time I get to feel like he sees me he can pretend to like my hair or think my lips look better with a touch of make up.

I opened my eyes and slowly made my way over to the small seat next to his bed. I sat down, it was hard, the seat bent forward a little too much. It smelled like bleach in here, I didn't like it. I didn't like Sherlock looking so vulnerable. I didn't like anything right now. I felt terrible, as if everything was my fault. I kept thinking about Jim and how stupid I was, how thinking someone, anyone for that matter would like me.

The only reason I said yes when Jim asked me out was because I thought Sherlock might see me, I thought that if someone else stood near me he might look over a little more.

Jim asked me out when I went for help one night, my computer was freaking out and he fixed it. We had talked briefly and the next day he had sent me an email asking if I wanted to go for coffee. I had said yes of course, I don't have people asking me out on a regular basis.

I didn't think it was weird when he asked about my coworkers, of course I talked endlessly about Sherlock at first and how amazing he was. I remember mentally keeping check and making sure that after the first conversation about him I didn't go on and on again.

I leaned forward and reached out my hand, brushing back a lock of sweat soaked curls. He had been out for over a week now, after the blast they found him under chunks of building. He had some head trauma but mostly it was internal bleeding. They had to put him in a medicated coma because the moment he came out of surgery and regained some semblance of consciousness he was trying to pull out his IV. Mycroft wasn't having any of it, he ordered the coma.

"Hey... you." my voice was trembling, why on earth was I nervous? Other than the police outside no one was near this room. It was just us, alone. I loved looking at him but not this way. I sat forward a little more, damn me to hell, I was starting to cry.

"Hey, I uhm... wanted to say hello." My throat was closing up a little.

"I miss seeing you at work, we had a fresh body yesterday. He was perfect for you."

I swallowed.

"I just wanted to say that, I know you don't care if I'm here and I know you don't care about me but..."

My voice broke off. At least he had no idea what was going on.

"I just care... so much... for you." I was now full out crying.

After the bomb blast Jim had disappeared, poof like a ghost. All they had found was a little blood, not even any of his henchmen were left behind.

I didn't tell Lestrade that the night of the explosion Jim stopped by my house and said goodnight. That's all he had said to me, goodnight and kissed me. After I found out everything that happened I went home sobbing. Jim had left a few things over at my flat, a normal gray shirt a pan that used to have cookies in it and a pillow.

We didn't have a very intimate relationship, but he really loved holding me on the sofa. The first few times I pretended it was Sherlock, after than Jim had started to really grow on me. It might have been slightly over a month but no one else cared if I got home safe, no one else called me at night or came up to me at work asking if I was having a good day.

Jim did.

"Sherlock, you must get better, you can't be like this." If I had makeup on it would surely be all over me now, the pink sweater I had on was now being used to wipe away my soaked face.

There wasn't really a way for me to tell him how much I loved him, it didn't really feel like the time or the place. He would be in the hospital for another two weeks at the least and that was hopeful.

John was better off, somehow the blast knocked him to the pool. He had broken his foot and had some burns on his legs and arms. He was already in his flat with Sarah taking care of him.

I wish I could take care of Sherlock but I didn't have the skills to help him in any area of his life.

I sat back a little and put my hands in my lap. I heard a knock on the door that made me jump and snap my head up, an officer was at the door, his body halfway in.

"Pardon me miss, but visiting time is over. Room is now off limits."

I nodded and stood, I could hardly feel my legs carry me out the door. With one last glance I looked back.

"I don't care if you like me at all Sherlock, I'm here for you. Here for you till your last breath."

**_Much love! Thank you for reading, if you liked it please let me know. I might make it a full story!_**


	2. Chapter 2 Home is where the cat is

**Thanks everyone for liking this! I don't think anything will be as good at the first chapter but here we go!**

Chapter two: Home is where the cat is.

I found out he came home last night. It had only been two weeks since I had visited him. I heard a week ago they took him off all machines and that a day later he was walking. John had been kind enough to stop by and tell me, I'm sure he knew I hadn't been back up. The only thing I had done was send a card in, I'm sure it seemed stupid to him. It was red with a some small cats on the front, no words. On the inside it said get well soon and I had added in

_Sherlock,_

_I came to see you… I wanted to send this_

_to you, to let you know I am thinking_

_about you. _

_Molly_

Stupid Molly. The last thing I needed him to think is that I'm more of an idiot than he first suspected. Its bad enough I dated the man who wanted him dead, but now I'm sending him a stupid card with cats on it.

I just arrived home, my flat wasn't anything special. Just one large living room with the kitchen added onto it, a small hallway and a bathroom. Toby came to the door right away and greeted me. I love my little boy.

I lifted him off the floor and took him to the sofa, dropping my bag at the same time I flopped down. I petted him for a few moments and glanced up. In the corner sat a chair, in that chair was the pillow and shirt Jim had left.

I spent weeks trying to toss that stuff out; every time I picked it up I broke down again. I can't believe how stupid I was, how I could think someone so nice would really care. By last week my tears had started to slow down, the pain was really starting to leave, to fade like a nightmare. The pain was leaving but not the other feelings. I guess when no one shows you affection you hook onto anyone you can, even if they are an evil bastard.

I didn't love Jim but it was damn near close. I guess I have a thing for men who are not emotionally available for relationships.

I pushed my face into Toby, breathing in. Just then my phone went off. Letting go of Toby I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone.

"Molly speaking."

Silence.

I pulled the phone back to look at the number but it was blocked. I tried again,

"This is Molly Hooper, can you hear me?"

Silence again before a soft voice filtered over the phone.

"Molly…"

I sat up slowly, heart pounding. This voice, I knew this voice. It wasn't the same tho, something was different.

"Molly, I know you can hear me."

Wickedness, darkness… danger. That's what made this voice sound different.

"J…Jim…" I wish I was able to pretend to be strong or to be some kind of badass but I didn't have it in me, thats what years of being nice will do to you.

A soft laugh and silence before,

"Molly, you don't have to be afraid. If I was going to kill you I would have done that the night I stopped by."

It was the truth, somehow I knew that but I didn't really believe it until he said it. I had stayed awake for nights at a time in case he came back, even with the police here, they stayed right after the bombing, I still wasn't at ease.

I could feel tears well up in my eyes.

"Molly, I'm not a man who says he is sorry but…" His voice was so soft; the pitch went up and down like a roller coaster.

"I wanted you to know, the only part of me that I have that might even be the slightest bit good felt bad for using you, but it was the only way I could get after Sherlock."

I didn't know what to say.

"I… I can't talk to you. I can't. I have to call…" I shut up quickly. I was going to say police. No doubt he knew that, I should have just spat it out and hung up.

"OhhHHhhhh?" he said, voice squealing slightly, "Police eh?" I could almost see him smile.

"I'm only slightly disappointed that I wasn't able to kill Sherlock, but again I love a challenge!"

He paused only for a moment.

"But then again dear Molly, you weren't a challenge at all were you..." Something had slipped into his voice, I wasn't able to tell what it was.

My breathing was getting more and more rapid, the tears had gone and my emotion was then fear. The room was getting smaller.

"Don't... t talk about me like that..." my voice was shaking but at least I made a complete sentence. Bits of my long hair were slipping into my face, I didn't even realize I had kept running my hand over and over it.

I stood up. The silence on the other end stabbed at my mind. I ran to the windows and checked them.

"Molly. I'm not outside no need to run around." I stopped.

"How..."

"I can hear you. Don't worry, I don't have cameras there... yet."

I stopped moving completely, the rush of fear was making me want to vomit.

"And... I wasn't trying to talk about you badly. Even evil men can miss the skin of a beautiful woman." The way he said it almost made me shiver. His voice curled around my spine and sent waves up my back.

That wasn't what I had expected him to say to me ever in a million lifetimes. This only spiked up a rage I never knew I had.

"How dare you!" I barked, "You lied to me, you use people and you tried to blow up Sherlock! Not to mention all the murders and everything else you do!"

His voice came back like a rush of glass ripping into my skin and tearing me down.

"That's what I _do_. I am a murderer, a liar a very bad man." his voice was raging.

"Do you really think I care about all those people? If I could I would go back in time to kill Sherlock as slowly as possible."

I could understand why I would mention Sherlock, but for him to... it made me realize how much he _hated _him.

"He was smart enough and brave enough to get to you, to try and kill you." I said it as I started to drop in steam, the fear that held me also took all my energy.

I could almost feel him on the other line, for someone as small as myself it felt like he was in the room with me his presence was so large.

"Molly..." He sounded like he was trying to be careful with his words. Before I could think I snapped,

"And why call me, haven't you done enough? Just leave me alone. I'm sure I will see you again after Sherlock kills you..."

Silence.

"I have nothing else for you..." I was beyond tired now. I just wanted to get off the phone and call the police, to hear someone elses voice than his. I wish Sherlock would call me. His voice was truly the only one I ever wanted to hear.

"There is always something to give, or something I can just take." His voice was back to the near perfect sound of a gentleman, liquid fire.

"There is _nothing_ for you here anymore. Do you realize or even care how much you hurt me?"

I expected him to laugh at me or say something, anything, that would rip me apart and tear away at the last strands of life I had. I had a quick vision of him kicking in the door and killing me, I would have thought that would happen before the words that came out of him next.

"I know I hurt you, and if I were a kind man I would have made it up to you by now."

A moment of silence.

"This _thing _you have for Sherlock really isn't healthy for you, he's going to die soon and that on top of everything else going on for you Molly," he made a ticking sound before continuing,

"Isn't going to be healthy for you."

I hit the end button on my phone and threw it across the room. The anger inside me was dwarfed by the sorrow pouring into my mind and body.

I don't know how long I was on the floor crying before I called Lestrade, time wasn't moving anymore for me.

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><p><em><strong>If you like it please let me know! It takes you to keep this going!<strong>_

_**Wayne.**_


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